The Greatest Mind's Death
by WhiteTeenWolfLisa
Summary: The greatest human mind - eighty-four years old paranoiac comes to another Great Mind, whose name is Sherlock Holmes. Also one lady visits Sherlock... After these meetings the story begins...
1. The Arrival of Sherlock's Nightmare

Not tall girl was walking along Baker Street, lugging her brown leathern case. Her thoughts were somewhere far away; she hadn't even paid attention to the car noises while crossing the road against red light. Lady was defiantly thinking about someone who she was interested in more than anything surrounded her.

However, soon her soul has come back into her body. The oddish old man, about eighty years old, grabbed girl's wrist.

"What… Sir, what are you doing? Do you need help?"

"Yes, ma'am, you see, I'm lost a bit… Hope, you might help me," at these words he let his interlocutress's wrist go.

"Well, I'll try. What are you looking for?"

"I need 221B Baker Street. Could you tell me, where is it?"

"We have the same way. Come with me; I'm going to mister Holms…"

"Please, be quite! Don't pronounce his name!" intermitted the old man and fixed a checked cap on his head, covering his face, hidden with dirty green scarf.

On the whole man was looked suspicious. Long maroon overcoat, high red boots and black glasses. All his appearance shouted about will not to be recognized or noticed. Although exactly this look attracts street's glances.

In the Sherlock's flat was daily chaos. In the fridge, as always, was someone's head. In the cup of coffee, as always, an eye was floating. Next to the entrance to the kitchen, as always, was hanging a suicidal dummy. Desk, as always, was flunked with various stuffs. And as always, great detective was sitting in the armchair and having another client, whose case he had already solved, although was being silent, keeping composure. Doctor Watson was sitting in front of his laptop and finishing writing his story, recently happened to him.

Doorbell rang. Missis Hudson by frequent steps approached the door and opened it.

"Oh!" exclaimed the old lady and subsided.

Mister Holmes shortly stood up and started moving the nearest bookcase.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" asked John, giving their visitor know that it is a daily thing, and it is nothing to worry about.

"Hurry, John, help me to move this bookcase! I've got just a few seconds!"

In complete perplexity doctor Watson hanged up on his place next to the chair. Client dumbly asked John about happening. From the stairs was heard creaking sound. Detective quickly gave up with a last one idea and hid in the wardrobe.

The strange old man and the young lady with her case entered the room.

"Common, Sherlock, are you eight? Immediately get out of the wardrobe! It's impolite!" exclaimed lady.

"Disappear! Why exactly to me? Go to Mycroft!" detective's surly voice was heard from the wardrobe.

Girl discontentedly took off her cinnamon-coloured broadbrim and the same colour gloves, then she hanged up the first one on a hanger and put the second one in the pockets of her overcoat. John was surprised by impassive communication between stranger and his best friend. A thought suddenly appeared in his head, which he said immediately.

"Do you know each other?"

"Yes, we do. Ah, Sherlock! Behave like a human; come and take off my overcoat."

"Let Mycroft do this, when you arrive to him!"

Girl nicely smiled, apparently, she expected such answer. That's why she took off her beige coat by herself and hanged it up on the same hanger, next to the entrance. Under all her outerwear were classical black trousers, classical white short hidden. Straight milk-chocolate-coloured hair was loose and smoothly flowed from shoulders to lush breast and from breast to thin waist. Her green eyes quickly flopped from Watson to the wardrobe. Lady with on movement asked missis Hudson to leave the room and take client with her.

"But… Wait! My case!" resented client.

"Your case is insoluble, even for Sherlock Holmes! Just tell your wife the truth, she'll understand, and everything's gonna be fine!

As soon as door had slammed after woman and guest, John asked:

"How did understand, that he was a thief? How could?.."

"It's easy, John! Man is cheating on his wife! He's too tanned; no mark of ring on his finger. Also you can see that ring wasn't worn for some time. It, probably, was had been lost repeatedly! He'd been needed money, urgently, I think, to buy his lover a wedding ring," the content of wardrobe talked again.

John turned his eyes from place, where Sherlock had been sitting, to the girl. She confirmed detective's words with a slight nod and gentle smile. Doctor coughed into a fist and then stretched out his arm to the new friend as the sign of greeting.

"My name is John. Doctor John Watson. I'm sorry, that I hadn't introduced myself earlier. Are you a detective, too?"

"Ha-ha, detective! You're ridiculous, John!" exclaimed Sherlock.

"My name is Elizabeth. I'm a doctor, too. Doctor Bright. Such skills I've got because of childish pastimes with Mycroft and Sherlock. I spent all my childhood with them! Please, sit down, sir! The great and fearless detective Sherlock Holmes soon will take you in."

Finally, the old man let everybody know about himself and softly sat on the sofa. He looked from side to side; it seemed like he doesn't trust even his own clothes. Weirdo was plucking his fingers, nibbling his lips and slightly wobbling. After handshake with John Elizabeth sat in the armchair, too, and crossed her legs. Doctor Watson did the same thing as guests.

The girl had started a countdown with her fingers. Three. Two. One. When she clenched her fist, Sherlock popped out the wardrobe and ran to his armchair, in which Elizabeth had been already sitting. She interrogatively raised her eyebrows and lifted up her head to see properly, how detective's gonna be astonished of her impudence.

About a minute Sherlock had been standing still, in order to give girl a chance to leave the armchair, after which he'd gone to the kitchen and came back with a chair, which was now standing before lady and in front of weird client. Sat on it, Sherlock had started watching weirdo, waiting for his story. Girl calmly smiled and left detective's flat, soundlessly closed the door behind her.

"Now you are safe, sir. What's happened?" asked John.

"Stupid question! Of course, it was attempted murder! I'm carefully listening to you, where had it place to be? And who are you?"

"You are right, Mister Holmes, attempted murder. Right in my home! I had been calmly finishing writing a new theory, suddenly tall thin man appeared from nowhere! He caught me with my night scarf and started suffocating me! I had hardly crashed out! Then I called the police with some help of my neighbours, explained them everything, and the just laughed at me! Told me, I have dotage! Nonsense! I'm resented! But I'm worried about my life!"

"Hmm… Do you have a hanger next to your desk?"

"Yes, I do, Mister Holmes."

"Well, you do have dotage. Your scarf had been caught with a hanger. You couldn't escape from tall male, even thin. Goodbye!"

"Famous Sherlock Holmes! I knew that!" disappointing exclaimed man and moved to the exit.

Unexpectedly for the guest Elizabeth opened the door from the other side. She had already changed her clothes to gentle-pink bulbar and white leggings; above it jean shorts were worn. Her hair was collected in a ponytail. She pushed client into the room and asked to sit down.

"If Sherlock Holmes can't help you, then I can. I hope, doctor Watson won't leave you too."

"It is inanity! You understand, it's nothing interesting in this case," resented Sherlock.

"Of course, nothing to you! Because I'm going to solve the case of Herbert von Lubertz (famous physicist, chemist and biologist), which you couldn't handle. You know, what is the most exciting? You called the assailant "a hanger"!" – Elizabeth was satisfied; she smiled and sat in the armchair.

This argument quickly effects on detective, he shortly ran to the girl, got her out of the chair and sat on the freed place.

"Okay, please, show me your house and your work place, - after these words he ran to the door. – Hurry up, John! Criminal will not long coming!"

Doctor still was amazed of happened, however he followed his friend, couldn't stop looking at stood next to the wardrobe lady's smirk.


	2. Furious Sherlock

"Well, missis Hudson, at last, we packed Sherlock off. Shall we clean up here?" asked Elizabeth the entered old lady.

Missis Hudson approved this idea with a nod and went downstairs into lumber-room for the necessary utensils. At the same time the young Englishwoman stepped to the detective's desk and discontentedly passed her finger over wooden surface.

"Honestly, Sherlock, you're such a pig! And when was the last time you wiped the dust?" it crossed her mind.

Missis Hudson entered the parlour. As soon as she closed the door behind her, the cleaning had started. Elizabeth took dry dustrag and began releasing habitation from the thick layer of allergenic enemy. The vacuum cleaner and the carpet cleaning fallen to missis Hudson's share.

While doing this both persons of the fair sex hadn't stopped talking, sometimes doing short pauses to make sure, that sociopath who lives here wasn't behind the front door.

"I'm happy, that you arrived! But what forced you to leave Oxford so quickly and move to us in London?" asked marry missis Hudson, packing vacuum cleaner back into its box.

"Oh, missis Hudson! I'm glad to see you, too! My work forced. My work," answered girl immediately, however, with dismal eye.

"Is that problems at your hospital?" horrified woman.

"No, no, of course, not! You know how flighty I am! Never stay at the one place, I like diversity. So I've decided to move here for some time."

"It can't be enough reason for you. For anybody, not you."

"Okay, but missis Hudson; no word to Holmes brothers!"

"I promise."

"In Oxford I've met one very nice guy; he was my patient. We'd become best friends. And in the last month he was attacked. They just looted him and mightily punched his head."

"Oh! That is horrible!" exclaimed missis Hudson.

"I had worried, too; but it became worse on the last week. Then his life was in danger. He moved here at that day and suggested to do it with him, but, you know me, I heartily cottoned to my sweet city! Yesterday he informed me about another attempted murder! The most interesting thing is that assailants in the both cities are the same persons! He recognized them with their voices!"

"They are hunting him down! Is he a big cheese or something? Has he already made a statement to the police?"

"Ordinary bank worker. Ordinary bank. And he was in the police office! But nobody was found. I thought to ask Sherlock..."

"So do it! He definitely can puzzle this out!"

"No, I'll try to do it by myself... I'll try..."

"No way! It is dangerous!"

The doorbell rang plangent. Both women harshly turned round and ran to the door, had thrown their rags at first. Holding their breaths, they had been standing, pressed their ears to the wooden surface, and trying to recognize human on the other side of wall with his breath, until guest gave under pressure of silence and said:

"Stop just standing there! Open the door!"

Light smiles had appeared on women's faces and missis Hudson let man come in. As soon as he had made a step over doorsill and noticed shiny glance of deep-green eyes on him, gentle smile, he sprang at the girl with open arms.

"Elizabeth!"

"Mycroft!"

After they'd spent few seconds, man shortly pulled back, like he remembered, that he is a famous and modest person, and such behaviour doesn't suit him. Elizabeth understood that, so she didn't resent, instead of it she invited him for a cup of tea in Sherlock's flat. At first Mycroft smiled on this offer, but then grimaced with disgust. However, ladies had only to assure the eldest brother Holms that the youngest wasn't home, and his answer changed to positive.

Mycroft was set in the clean part of living room and given a nice cup of green tea with sponge-cake, as soon as they had moved to the flat. Man brought the cup with drink to his lips and perplexedly looked at ladies. Missis Hudson continued cleaning up in Sherlock's bedroom Elizabeth was finishing sweeping in the living room.

"I counted on a homely fellowship,"

"Sorry, Mycroft, we should sort out piles of garbage in this place. You see, how he neglected it!" – answered the girl.

"He did this, so let him change the situation!"

"Ha-ha! Don't you know your little brother? Even if he finds the corpse's leg in the cup, he won't stop drinking, he'll definitely snack it!"

"Well, in such case, I hope, we could have a conversation."

The girl agreed with a nod and began answering guest's questions. They had been talking like that for ten minutes, after which the cleaning was finished, and missis Hudson brought some more teacups. The company increased.

Sherlock and John caught a taxi and went to the crime scene with a client. All the way they kept silence. Sherlock was deep in his thoughts, but he had learnt enough about the old man before.

One-room flat on the last floor of eight-storied violet building, pasted with different banners, was the home of the great scientist. From the inside it was covered with strange tables, diagrams and models of internals and atoms, there was a mess.

"You two... Two shoes make pair, Sherlock!"

Holms only shortly glanced with anger at John and quickly looked around the quarters. On the floor he noticed a business card of one falling bank.

"Do you have relatives working on a bank?"

"No, my daughter died, so her mother did it. I have only a grandson. But I do not know where is he now..." answered the old man.

"Doesn't matter! You weren't in this bank. It means, we should make a visit to the workers."

Detective made a step to the front door and then shortly turned around on the sound of activating computer. The scientist had decided to check the safety of his documents. On the screen Sherlock noticed the number -2 in the window called "P". Satisfied and at the same time intrigued smile illuminated his face. He asked a specifying question, addressed to the scientist:

"Is it your calculations?"

"P? Minus two? Are you serious? I don't spend my time doing such pointless things! Detective! I should have called MI!"

Doctor Watson felt the looming conflict and hurried up to take Sherlock away.

"John! It wasn't the attempted murderer! That was a cry for help!"

"What?"

"At first we should get home. I've left the witch there. She must be expelled!"

"Oh, Sherlock!"

Mycroft and Elizabeth hadn't seen each other for more than thirteen years; the girl's parents moved her in her fourteen, so they had something to talk about. But the eldest Holmes is a busy man. He stood up; the doorbell rang. Three times.

"I'm in a shower!" the girl shortly popped up and ran to the bathroom, had taken a towel, which were lying ready.

"I'll bring you clothes, as soon as I face an attack, - said missis Hudson and shouted at the ringer. – I'm coming! Coming! Hush!"

Sherlock ran into the house, watching for Doctor Bright. Instead of girl he stumbled upon his brother.

"Take her!" exclaimed the youngest Holmes.

"What does "take" mean? She is not a thing, Sherlock! Though, I would love to carry her away as far as it possible from you! As always, you ran away, didn't you?"

"I was busy!"

Sherlock entered his lonely shelter and, noticed the absence of suicidal mannequin and someone's head in the fringe, roared, and rummaged the desk. All documents had lied carefully, but detective didn't like it. He ran to the bathroom. Opened the door, he strictly scanned the girl, who had just got out of shower cabin. She was standing wrapped in a big white towel; water drops were flowing down from wet hair; all her body was covered with Earth's tears. With no shade of confusion man loudly shouted:

"It's a nightmare!"

"I can't disagree. Your behaviour is terrifying. Leave the room, please, and close the door behind you," the girl didn't lose her courage.

"Where is my head, you, green-eyed curse!?"

"It has been returned to its owner. Sherlock, I swear to God, if you don't go away, I'll hug you!"

Glanced with anger, man turned and called John. Together they went out of the building and headed to the London Zoo's side, next to which the needed bank was located.

"I should go, too!" at these words Mycroft vanished behind the front door.

Missis Hudson came closer to Elizabeth, and they said with a sigh:

"Men!"


	3. Abhipr

Sherlock and John silently got to the needed bank, though doctor had tried to elucidate something about detective's plans. Entered the building, Sherlock confidently came to the reception.

"I've got an appointment. My name is Sherlock Holmes!" man kindly smiled.

A female receptionist had been turning the log pages for a long time, scrupulously reading every single word, but still hadn't found any notes with name Sherlock; disappointedly she gave the negative answer. Holmes grimaced sadly:

"It couldn't be! I was sure I've got the appointment today!"

"With whom exactly, mister Holmes? Perhaps, I've made a mistake."

But Sherlock had already not paid attention to her; he was inspecting people around him. Then he turned without interest and swiftly strode to the exit.

"Well, it seems, that I've made a mistake"

"Sherlock?" John tried to inquire his friend in whisper.

"Excuse me, I didn't catch, in which cafe are we going? What?! That cafe on the opposite side?"

At first John raised his eyebrows in full confusion, and then knitted them, because of unpleasant ignoring his person. Sped up a little, doctor joined the detective. They came into cafe, which was slightly described by Sherlock, and set down to table, placed next to the entrance and set for three persons. A typical man appeared in front of them and asked for one chair.

"No, no! Our company will increase!" answered Sherlock.

"Who? Sherlock, please, explain what's going on? Firstly, you've been showing off every second, and now you decided to keep silence? Ah, no! I've got it! It's a new kind of boasting and mockery – two in one! Like, John, you should have guessed already!"

"No, John, not now. Our client is a very secretive person and prudent. It amuses me!"

"Do it really?.."

The other client came into the cafe. Lean, but in a good physical form man with the bank "Abhipr" badge on his jacket. He set down to table on the contrary of John and Sherlock, got out of his trousers pocket a tiny piece of newspaper. It fell on the floor, but man didn't pick it up. He stood up and asked waiter:

"Excuse me, do you have new "Times"?"

"I'm afraid, we don't, sir."

After that man was gone. Sherlock, keeping an eye on him, shortly stood up and imperceptibly raised the fallen piece. A cutting from the newspaper contained the following:

"...the shadowing..."

Sherlock pulled John with him on the way out of the cafe. With a frisky step they reached a newspaper shop on the opposite street.

"That was our client? He suggested you to buy new "Times"?"

"You guessed one, John, but the other is still closed from your mind. He's too smart for such nonsense!"

Holms began turning round, keeping his eye out for something or somebody, spinning in place – watching for the clues. He was looking at the signs, newspapers and magazines on the counter. John, too, was looking back, trying to help. A satisfied smile illuminated detective's face – new piece of paper with a scrap was found near the dustbin wrapped in a plastic bag. Sherlock immediately threw the newspaper and the plastic bag. A letter was left in his hands.

"And you have a dark past, don't you?" the man happily noticed.

The letter:

"You're, obviously, intelligent, Mr. Holmes! I am very sorry, that I can't have a chat with you privately, you already know the reason. I'm also sorry, that I had to bring to you that old man, but it was necessary. Why am I interested in him? I want to clear my reputation. He will become an attractive target in this or next week. Be sure, Mr. Holmes! Drug dealers have good friends in the local community. The old man is ill, trusting and weak against women. Keep this in your mind. For unknown period of time I'm not able to say more. Catch up on the news!

The bank employee"

"A doctor. Cute. Friendly. Can find a common language. Smart. A girl. John!"

"What? What is it, Sherlock?"

"Do not trust the witch!"

"Wh... Sherlock, what did she do to you now?"

Without any explanation Sherlock took John back home.

Again indignant Sherlock ran into the living room, where Elizabeth was sitting in dark trousers and white shirt. She saw the angered man and abruptly jumped up from her seat.

"Sherlock, I've done it accidentally! But you still have John!"

"It's not about that. What? Where is Billy?!"

Mrs. Hudson and John had looked at each other in bewilderment, waiting for the denouement, but then the chaos followed around the room, as Sherlock began to turn everything upside down. Elizabeth stood quietly, biting her lower lip, which always shows her emotion.

"Sherlock, did you want to talk about something?"

"Oh, yes," surprisingly, the detective calmed down; "What do you know about the health of my client?"

"Absolutely nothing, Sherlock. I haven't seen him yet. Or do you still think that the old man is your client?"

"Yes, he's still my client! Faster!"

"At the first glance, well... I think he has something with his kidneys. Sherlock, why didn't you ask about it John? He had seen him, too."

"Stay out of my business! It is only mine! Deal with your sores! What do you think, John, how soon will he ask for surgical treatment?"

"I don't think that very soon. I guess, in three or four months."

"No, no, no! On this or next week! He'll be forced by someone or with something to do it sooner!

"Who is your client? How did he know about this?"

Sherlock jumped to the girl.

"You! Why did you come?"

"To work, Sherlock!"

"You're lying! That's not the point! Where do you work?"

"No, Sherlock! Skull is in the dustbin. Don't cry to Mrs. Hudson. And no one will pry what you are up to."

Offended, she demonstratively went into the Sherlock's bedroom and lay down on his bed with her back to the door.

"Sherlock, you can't do such things! At least sometimes don't be so stale! She's like a sister to you!" sensually said Mrs. Hudson and went into the kitchen.

Sherlock, shortly exhaled, closed his eyes. Opened them, he went to Elizabeth.

"Please, tell me, where do you work?.. Now get out of my bed!"

The girl, not getting up, grabbed a pillow and, without looking, threw it accurately at Sherlock's head, leaving at the same time: "In the hospital!"

"What the hell! Man can die, because of your stubbornness!"

"Because of my tolerance, he lives! The Royal Brompton Hospital. Will coming back – don't forget to capture your heart!

"It is..." began the detective, but the next pillow flew in his face.

In the hospital.

Sherlock moved to talk to a passing nurse, but a few minutes later he returned.

"The information is needed from the circle you can only get from a member of this circle. I have to talk to Elizabeth."

"You hurt her, actually. I'd better talk to her. Anyway, tell me everything at first! I have a feeling that even Mrs. Hudson knows more than I do! Take with you Dr. Bright next time!"

"Never, John, you're crazy!"

(Sherlock understood that he had to go to the opposite street because the man sat down at the opposite table. The decision to go to the newsstand was based on man's question about the newspaper. Without hesitation detective threw the newspaper and package, because he realized - this is an excuse. Sherlock thought about Dr. Bright due to the hint with "ladies", as she is the only woman doctor the old man knows)

"Interesting. Well, now I'm talking to her."

A phone call to Elizabeth.

"Hello, Elizabeth Bright is listening. Where did you?.. Well,.. Have you already consulted with your doctor?.. You should go to the hospital... Yes, right now!.. If you want to... See you!"

She quickly took her coat off the hanger and slipped it on.

"Mrs. Hudson! Cook something for our arrival! Thank you!"

"I'm not your maid! How many times should I repeat?"

"Busy. Sherlock, did you give me the right number?"

A phone call to Sherlock.

"Elizabeth, I..." Sherlock began, but he was interrupted by the girl at the other end.

"Shut up! I have no idea what's gonna happen, but be ready! Your client will soon be in my hospital. Are you and Dr. Watson already there?"

"Yes, we are waiting for him. Thank you!"

"Do not mention it yet. I'm coming, too."


	4. Vice versa plan

"Is he already here?" Elizabeth asked, breathless.

"No, but we've been staying next to the entrance long enough" said Dr. Watson, glancing at the front door.

"Is it possible that our enemy is aware that you're aware, Sherlock?"

"I don't think so. Call him!" Sherlock turned on his heels and walked to the nurses' office, not getting his hands out of the pockets of his coat.

"I'm shocked with your mutual understanding!" John admired.

"Everybody is. You should get used to it. No respond!"

"Here he is! At the entrance! I think he is looking out for you!"

"John, warn Sherlock. I'm taking away my client to the surgery number twelve. Try to slip unnoticed after me."

The girl ran towards the patient. Took the old man's arm, she got the key in a staffroom and led the patient to the location which was written earlier. John also went to Sherlock and pulled him with his elbow to the side where staffroom was. Whispering, men slowly entered the room and quietly closed the door behind them.

The old man, who was sitting without a thing, covering his torso, dissatisfiedly shocked at the sight of strangers during his inspection. The man had already begun to dress and move towards the exit, but the good-natured Dr. Bright immediately assured him that there was nothing to worry about, Mr. Holmes was there because of his case, and Dr. Watson was her consultant. John immediately got into the role and began touching the old man's kidneys. Sherlock indignantly started thrumming on the table with medical instruments.

Suddenly someone knocked at the door. After the knocking a middle-aged man (not tall, not short, "medium" male) with red eyes in a doctors' overall and light-blue surgeons' suit followed. That man was called Dr. Timothy Clough.

"I was told about serious kidney problems. I am a specialist, Bright, you know. I can help. Who are these people?"

"Surely, Timothy, you're a good surgeon who is knowledgeable at kidneys, but patient has come to me, so I will treat him. Is it clear?"

"Utmost."

"That's family. I need to get the analysis of your urine, Mr. Lyuberts. Your nephew will help you, right, John?" Elizabeth pointed out, and without waiting for an answer, gave the direction to the toilet. "Right down the hall and then turn left."

"I'll show you, sir. You know, I think you need a surgery. No, I'm sure! Bright, you understand this, stop tormenting this man!"

"Why are you so interested in operation? He may not need surgery, which, to the point, is more likely. And even if he need it, then certainly I want let you make a step to his side. Understood?" got the nod from the interlocutor, she strictly roared. "Get out of my way!"

After that, everybody left the consulting room. Elizabeth and Sherlock headed towards the laboratory, and on the path the second one started a conversation:

"Uh, sometimes you're being harsh." he let himself notice that.

"Why does he need this operation?"

"Darling, I'm so worried about my best friend's uncle! Can you help him?"Detective said factitiously and let a tear slide down to his chin, or rather, he tried to.

Elizabeth stopped right outside the door, turned her head sharply to the right and up at Sherlock's face and raised her eyebrow, like asking a question. Such expression, indulgent and abstract, expresses only one question, which consists of a single word: "Really?" Pleased with his sarcastic speech and established communication Mr. Holmes allowed himself a slight smile and politely opened the door for a lady. She quietly slipped into the lab, and after her detective, previously looked at people in the hospital.

"You have chosen John, it's a correct decision" With these words he put his hand into his pocket for a telephone. "He writes that my client has a glomerulonephritis. What does it mean?"

"This means - antibiotics, bed rest and no operation! The attacker has no chance! Only if he is not..."

"He is not a doctor who's got an access to important documents and analysis!" Sherlock continued.

Quickly exchanged glances, both ran to the exit. Dr. Bright pointed the direction to Sherlock with her hand – nurse's area. There she accidentally found out had Dr. Clough operations or not. As they thought, operating on the third floor is occupied by an elderly critically ill man, who's going to be operated by none other than Dr. Timothy Clough. At first detective had run upstairs, and she had followed him, but after a moment both realized, that the surgeon specifically had chosen the top floor, to buy time. She grabbed the man's wrist and showed with her head to the view from the window into the parking.

Ran out onto the street, the couple started looking for a kidnapper. In the second row. Grey Peugeot 107. Tim Clough was trying to push the old man in his car, but his rush disturbed him in this matter. He has quite decent vibration in his hands because of his agitation. He saw rescuers of the old man approaching him, and accelerated. Sherlock attacked him. Mr. Lyuberts' head almost hit the floor, but Elizabeth had time to catch the man. John jumped out from the hospital and rushed to help his friend. The girl at that time called the police.

8 a.m. TV screen is replete with hourly news. John was sitting in a chair in front of it and watching uninteresting program. Sherlock came out from his bedroom, bright, cheerful, and set next to John.

"Has news just begun?"

"Yes. Since when have you started being interested in it?"

"Since I've been advised to watch it. Where is Elizabeth?"

"Hah, not a witch anymore? She left with Mrs. Hudson to the bakery."

"So, she found a case more interesting, than mine is." Sherlock mumbled.

"What?"

"Hush, John, I'm watching the news!"

John raised his eyebrows in surprise and, as usual, knitted them. News host was saying:

 _"_ _The drug provider Tim Clough, nicknamed Stuffer, was arrested. He performed operations and simultaneously sew packages filled with various kinds of drugs in patients. He was caught by the consulting detective Sherlock Holmes who found the offender kidnapping his client - physicist, chemist and biologist - Herbert Von Lyuberts. According to his partner, Dr. John Watson, the victim was given to drink some kind of poison so that he appealed to the doctor and could be taken to unnecessary surgery..."_

With a confident gait Elizabeth entered the building of the bank Abhipr. The same way she came to the woman behind the counter and asked for Jamie Klitebeat. To her surprise in a moment in front of her she saw a completely different person than girl expected to meet. Then she began to explain that this is some kind of mistake and tried to describe that Jamie Klitebeat she's been seeking.

He is quite tall, brown-haired, athletically built. He has a little noticeable American accent. Most often he is wearing clothes covering his arms. He has a habit - rubbing his thumb on his middle finger. Of course, none of such person was ever seen. Elizabeth had expressed her disappointment and already turned to leave as an unknown man approached to her, apparently he was an employee of the bank.

"Excuse me, I saw you on TV, you've saved a man with Mr. Holmes, if I'm not mistaken."

"No, I just was called to assist. I accidentally got into the shot!"

"Oh, anyway, how do you like Mr. Holmes? Have you caught some time to talk to him?"

"Yes, just a couple of minutes, what could I learn about him! Can I look at your hand?"

In his hand man was holding the pen memory that Elizabeth imperceptibly took, hiding it with an excuse. After that, she advised him to consult a dermatologist and hurried to the exit. But her interlocutor stopped her, grabbing her wrist.

"I'll consider your advice. You know, I'm surprised your acquaintance. I would like to meet him real. I think he's too good at his business, that he pays attention on his best friends only when they can be used with a benefit. Don't you have to run?"

 _"... And last news by this hour. Unknown stole two hundred thousand pounds from the bank Abhipr, which is on the brink of ruin..."_

Sherlock turned off the TV and shortly stood up because of his annoyance.

"The Bank is ruined! Money, the lack of money, lack of money, stealing money... Credit! But to whom they have to pay such credits?

"Actually, it's a strange name for the bank, don't you think so?" said John, who was blogging about yesterday incident.

"Your client advised me to stop looking for one my friend and passed "hello" with this pen memory."

 _"This time I will be straightforward, no riddles. There's no time. USB pen memory stick is in your hands as well as my life. You have arrested the main transporter of drugs. Now they subsided, but believe me, with it they will actively begin to chatter. I was a member of the gang, and physically I still am. You surely had time to notice – we've got a debt. But we've got that rich so we won't pay it. Mr. Holmes, who is spying?_

 _Accent."_

"There is nothing else on a pen memory. He said: "No riddles!" Sherlock, do you know the answer?" John asked.

"It's not a riddle, John!" Sherlock started.

"The answer is spy" said Holmes and Bright in chorus.

"A spy, foreigner. And today I was pointed to the stranger." concluded Elizabeth.

The phone in the Dr. Bright's pocket vibrated to notify about the new message. She quickly read the contents:

 _"Honey, I need you. I know you're here. It's time we should talk. I've been watching you for a long time, but I couldn't think that you're the girlfriend Holmes was needed! You're on mine. Come out and get in the red car. If anybody knows, all gonna be corpses."_

 _"_ _Solve your case, Sherlock, you're obviously very close to solution." With these words the girl stepped to the hanger and put her phone in the pocket of the coat. Not hers. Sherlock's. Then she threw her coat over her shoulders and followed the instructions from the message._

"Too close!" said Sherlock and rushed to gather. "We need support. Call Lestrade!"


	5. It is time for Death

Sherlock ran out and caught a cab. John came out after him and stopped the detective.

"Sherlock, what shall I tell him?"

"They must be ready. Soon we'll shut down a huge drug trafficking system! Sit down, John. We're going to the bank Abhipr."

The taxi drove up to the bank main door. Barely the car had stopped completely; Mr. Holmes opened the door and ran to the already familiar woman behind the counter. Watson sighed with displeasure, but still paid the driver and joined his friend.

"Call Mr. Kortnish, please!"

"Kortnish?" asked John in bewilderment.

"I made inquiries." Sherlock replied in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, but he quitted immediately after the abduction of money, as you must have heard." said the blonde.

"What exactly did he say? Word for word, please!"

"U-uh ... "I surrender to the poverty and unemployment" The woman was going to continue, but Sherlock interrupted her with a gesture of his hand.

Without any more words men went to an abandoned building, to the rats from the Sherlock Holmes's network of homeless.

"Straight to the point!" shortly said Sherlock, when he'd arrived at his destination and came to one drunkard.

"Under the Tower Bridge at midnight. That's all he asked me to tell you."

"Well, of course!" exclaimed Sherlock testily.

John turned around and noticed something on the wall. He walked away from it for a few steps back and worriedly frowned.

"Sherlock, is this... Is this a map?"

"No, John, it is our route. Hurry, we have to be there until midnight!"

"Jamie." Despising Elizabeth snorted and looked from the driver to the side window. Trees, cars, houses, streets were quickly flashing behind it. Clouds were getting darker, shutting out the sun by themselves. However, rain wasn't foreshadowed.

"Ross, call me Ross, baby. We're partners with you, kinda." said the man; in his accent we can surely say that he is American.

"What else do you want from me? I thought you managed to get everything back in Oxford."

"Hmph, no, I haven't got your pretty attractive face yet." The car stopped abruptly at the traffic light. "Thief!"

The man grabbed girl's hair with one hand and pulled them, and the other hand remained on the steering wheel. Elizabeth silently screamed in sudden pain, but courageously grabbed the offender's throat with both her bony hands. But the man, apparently, expected such actions from her, because, he quickly released her hair, moved his long bony fingers on the Englishwoman's collarbones and pinched her carotid artery. Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh and fell into unconsciousness. The man straightened her hair and smugly smiled. The green light. The car drove on its passengers.

"John, it's time to call Lestrade and tell him the exact address. Soon all will end."

Dr. Watson did as his friend said. He briskly dialled the inspector and a minute later spoke to him, explaining the situation. Sherlock Holmes was also immersed in his thoughts; he felt like he forgot something in his joy.

 _"The map, the route is on the wall. But why is it on the wall? At midnight on the Thames. Night. Map. On the wall. Night. Darkness. Twelve. Thames!"_

"We're going to Tower Bridge!" Suddenly detective ordered.

Arrived at the spot and stopped right in the middle of the bridge, Sherlock ran out onto the road. Ran around the car and enclosure, all the time counting columns inwardly and counted to twelve, he stopped and gasped. Few minutes later he was joined by John Hamish Watson. Standing next to the column, Sherlock took off his scarf and leaned to the right one, buried himself into a woollen product so that the light won't fall on the section of the column, which was at detective's eye level. The desired result was achieved. Letters flashed on the wall. Sherlock smiled with pleasure.

The inscription declared:

 _"Your watch, Mr. Holmes. Is it on the right place?"_

Holmes stepped back from the column and pulled his hand into his pocket. Found Elizabeth's mobile phone, he quickly turned it on and read a message from a spy. Quickly typing a message, he immediately sent it to a kidnapper.

"American. Americans like to expand a blockbuster out of the blue. How about a cup of tea, John? In a nearby cafe they have amazing green tea!"

"Are you serious? Sherlock, Elizabeth is stolen in the strangest way in my mind, and you offer to go to a cafe? Let's be honest, do we need this tea?" Watson boiled over.

"I'm afraid we don't, but we need to go there."

The men entered the cafe and sat at a table nearby the window. John ordered a cup of tea not to be suspicious. And Sherlock didn't cease to observe the scene outside the window.

Shivers ran up the American's skin when he saw on the screen of his mobile phone message from Elizabeth. In an instant, he was even satisfied.

"Good girl. Now I'm gonna finish with your friends."

But soon an angry, self-satisfied expression on his face changed abruptly to frightened. His eyes were red, his nostrils flared, and his cheeks became pale because of what they seemed missing.

"Cafe "Shire". We're waiting 4 u." It was in the SMS.

"Damn!" man swore and slapped his knee in anger. Then he turned the car in the opposite direction from a given point and dialled.

"Morgen, we're gathering in a crowded place. Cafe "Shire".

Dropped the phone on the back seat, the American turned toward the sleeping Englishwoman. She didn't move. Only breathing betrayed her living soul.

A red car drove to the cafe, which Mr. Holmes had expected to see. Ten minutes passed, but no one left it. After ten minutes ten black cars drove up. Sherlock complacently turned to John, to whom all happening has been gradually ceased to like and began to terrorize.

"Sherlock, shall I call Lestrade?"

"You've already called." Detective didn't stop smiling.

"But I told him the address to which was concluded from the route on the wall!"

"Right. The main action is taking place right where inspector is. Why, do you think, he still hasn't called you back?"

Sherlock still was delighted smiling in anticipation of the story development and the emergence of new faces. John raised his eyebrows, as he usually does in thinking, and furrowed back, because he still didn't understand what his friend was obtaining.

"Everybody, sit on your places and do not move! Anyone who without asking my permission stirs – dead" Shouted man who had just entered.

The whole band of criminals of all sorts ran into after him. Thieves, murderers and rapists. Only one of all was a drug dealer and, in combination, was the leader of a not small gang.

This person was very strange, but had very suitable appearance. He was round-shouldered, but without visibly bulging belly. Strongly marked hips with hanging skin-folds of fat instead of pumped muscles. A part from the knee to the ankle was shorter than hip twice. His hands were like his hips with dangling skin that was obvious seeing even under the jacket. Even his eyes distantly brought to mind those ugly hips.

All people here started to panic, but everyone had been quickly taken in hands by the men with guns. Children stopped loudly and continuously whining, women stopped acting the holy martyrs, and the men stopped showing off, hoping to appear heroes in eyes of public.

Drug dealer immediately sat down at the central table. He put his hands in lock, and a long while had been watching people with his small, inquisitive eyes. Soon, he was tired of this pointless sitting and he glanced expectantly at the American. It's a pity that he didn't justify his expectations, the American didn't speak, and that's why the leader had to express his desire directly.

"Come on, Ross. Didn't you want to tell us something from your independent masters?"

"I've got no masters! I've come to join you..." he was interrupted with a low laugh of his interlocutor. "I picked up a gift as a sign of our union. Show her, you, from the left!"

American fingered to a tall guy at the door. That, in his turn, stepped aside. Girl stood behind him.

"Elizabeth!" Recognized Sherlock and John.

Intruders' attention was attracted with the doctor and detective's table.

"Sherlock Holmes. How didn't I notice you?" Wilfully exclaimed the American.

"Ross, so I am a gift? Earlier you said the opposite." Elizabeth happily came out of the shadow of her overseer and sat at the drug dealer's table. "And how can I be useful? Helminth can be removed without consulting a doctor."

American in two seconds jumped to an Englishwoman, raised his arm over her head in order to force silent. But the man at the table gestured not to do so.

"And you are a very interesting lady. What is your name?"

"Elizabeth." she briefly replied and without waiting for the reaction completed. "I'm not going to work for you. With no circumstances."

The American put a gun to her narrow back. But she didn't flinch.

"I Said. With. No. Cir-cum-stan-ces." She clearly said each syllable.

Cafe was surrounded by police. From the speaker came the familiar voice:

"Surrender, you've been caught. Release the hostages and leave with your hands to the top!" said Lestrade.

"Well, the last game?" asked the leader of the gang after examining his subordinates and receiving from each a positive nod, he continued. "Stewart, release all women and children, besides our Elizabeth, of course, part of the men. Ross, so, as you're a part of our team, inform the cops that their favourite Sherlock Holmes is here, they must take all those plebs away.

All went to perform their assigned tasks. Lestrade looked at sergeant Donnovan and sighed, as he had known the location of detective.

"What are your conditions?" Greg again spoke into the microphone.

"Hmm, that's another business. First of all, our freedom. Hey, Bobby, throw a couple of tomatoes in cops!"

"This is a stupid siege. Your ex-right hand betrayed you long ago. American spy decided to run to the strong side, but, ah, not on time! Well, the time! We'll go. Come on, John!" Mr. Holmes brightened.

"Where are you going? Sherlock, you're always so boring! Why do you always stop everything the most interesting?!" Suddenly Elizabeth indignant and went to the detective.

"I'm not boring. Well, maybe sometimes. Case is closed. It is too easy to continue spending so much time on it!" Sherlock supported the girl's squabble and discreetly signed to John.

All eyes were riveted to this pair. Nobody noticed that one of hostages had decided to escape through the back door and successfully did it.

"Greg, through the back door. Oh, those two are beautiful, honestly, Lestrade" John said.

Inspector's squad of armed forces broke out from where Watson had just escaped. Everyone was pushed their face down on the floor, except for one. The American. He was able to get away and take a gun and pick up Dr. Bright. Sherlock rushed after him. They ran very long, but stopped at the bridge of the Thames.

"Come back! Or I'll shoot her!" Ross growled and put a gun to girl's chest.

"Shoot, she means nothing to me.."

No one could expect it. Shot. Immediate and definitely the exact death.

In the flat at 221B Baker Street sounded a sad tune played on a violin.


End file.
